


Star Trek: Warmind

by Wetfutaku



Category: Star Trek Online
Genre: F/F, Futanari, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25773436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wetfutaku/pseuds/Wetfutaku
Summary: Two factions clash in a conflict centered around a mysterious human weapon. Contains futanari and a lot of very dangerous women.
Kudos: 1





	Star Trek: Warmind

The freighter was a bit of a rustbucket, crawling between stars at warp 5. It was getting to be almost a century in service, and short of an extensive, and expensive, total refit its next destination was the scrapyard.

"Unsightly," Lieutenant Hira mused, her manicured nails running through the scalp of the Cardassian head in her lap. The girl practically purred, putty in Hira's hands. Orions tended to have that effect on others, though the Cardassian was a special case. "Good thing it won't be long for this life, mm?"

She hooked a long finger under the girls chin, gently pulling her up, moving in close and fixing her gaze on hers. She leaned in, her breath hot on her face, their lips mere centimeters apart- 

The comms panel buzzed, and for a moment before her control slid back her eyes betrayed her true frustration. She stabbed it with a finger, staying wrapped up with the girl. "Yes?"

The bridge officer, who knew by her commanders tone perfectly well what she'd interrupted, sounded a little smug. "We've detected Federation vessels in the area."

"Have they seen us?" Hira asked, fingers trailing down the Cardassian's neck ridge, making her shudder softly. 

"No indication, ma'am." The Lieutenant thought for a moment.

"I'll be right there. Sound battle stations." She reluctantly pulled away from the Cardassian, for once thankful they hadn't had the time to get fully undressed. "Back to your ship, my wolf. I will sate that desire of yours when the hunt is over."

Nerac growled softly, but smiled. She adjusted her uniform and strapped on her weapons belts. Truth be told, it was easy to quash her lust; only one pursuit rivaled her love of sex: battle.

"Qapla," she growled, flashing her commanding officer a grin that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Qapla," Hira agreed, pulling Nerac into a deep kiss, biting her lower lip hard. She pulled back, slapping the Cardassian's ass to encourage her out the door. "Go."

Two minutes later, the cloaked Birds of Prey separated with nothing more than a momentary shimmer, nigh invisible against the vast darkness of space. They flew apart, running a parallel course to the freighter, stalking their target.

The Federation group was a small one, consisting of two Nova class science ships accompanied by a Cheyenne heavy cruiser. This somewhat odd group was partly born of necessity; the USS Curie, one of the Nova classes, had recruited the other two for an urgent mission dangerously near Klingon territory. They were to rendezvous with a freighter to accept some sort of extremely valuable, extremely secret cargo. With tensions on the rise with the Klingons, the captain of the Cheyenne, the ranking officer, had expressed reservations about this task.

All of which led to a young officer on the Curie nervously scanning everything in range, searching for anything and everything. Eliza Belle was, in some ways, an average human. She was 5'7", a standard height, and was proportioned pleasantly enough; D-cup breasts and a pleasingly wide waist. More unusual was her cream coffee skin tone and bright blue hair, slightly incandescent when the light hit it at certain angles. Then there was the fact that she was displaced from her own time, some century and a half ago, into this one by an ancient Klingon weapon. She had briefly commanded a ship, but upon settling in her new century had been more than happy to get back to being a science officer.

"Lieutenant," a gravelly voice boomed out, and Belle jumped in her seat. "Anything on sensors?"

Captain Ron was a tall, barrel chested Andorian with a snow white handlebar mustache. He had a habit of twirling it as he spoke, almost absentmindedly. His antennae dipped down as he awaited her answer. She scanned the readouts to double check.

"Ah, no, sir. Nothing for ten light years." He nodded, stroking the hair on his face almost comically.

"Is the tachyon net ready?"

"Yes, sir. Installed this morning, but we still need to run some tests." 

The Captain clapped a hand on her console. 

"No tests like field tests," he said cheerily. "Boot it up."

The ship jerked as it dropped to impulse with the other Nova and the Cheyenne, at the rendezvous point before the slower freighter.

"Helm, take us away from the others, but not too far. Lieutenant, let's cast the net towards the freighter and see if it catches any fish." Eliza nodded, manipulating the controls to activate and direct the device. The new interfaces were streamlined and especially customizable, but she sometimes found herself missing the older, harder way. "Ready? Good. Engage."

Pressing the button wasn't quite like the feeling of pulling a trigger, but Eliza had a strange feeling of fate as she did so anyways- identical to the feeling she'd had just before the events that resulted in her moving through time.

"Sir," she began, hesitatingly, but it was too late. The tachyon net, visualized on the viewscreen, cast a cone of brilliant green energy out that outlined the distinct shape of two Klingon birds of Prey. 

"Red alert!" Barked the captain, who had reacted with impressive speed. "Ready phasers and arm torpedoes! Maximum yield!"

Things were unfolding quickly, and time seemed to slow. Eliza noticed a second set of objects painted by the net, moving very quickly. She zoomed in, scanning the outline. 

"Sir! Something is headed for the others!" The Captain whirled around, probably to follow up on that, when the field of cloaked mines slammed into the other two ships. The USS Newton didn't stand a chance; without its shields up, mines destroyed the bridge, the deflector, then hit a nacelle and set off a chain reaction that resulted in a warp core breach, consuming the ship in a massive antimatter explosion within seconds. There wasn't even a chance for survivors.

The USS Nowak fared better. The heavy cruiser, built for the stresses of both battle and work, had managed to get its shields up to half before the mines hit: the tactical officer had made the executive decision to raise them as soon as they saw the Curie raise theirs. If he had survived, this would have earned him a decoration, perhaps even the Starfleet Medal of Valor. Instead he was the first casualty as the majority of the mines slammed into the Nowak, removing 60% of its hull, disabling its warp and impulse drives, and blowing out every EPS conduit across 15 decks. It tilted into a list and began to vent plasma, disabled.

That left the Curie to fend for itself, two Birds of Prey barreling down on it. Such an uneven fight that one of the birds moved off, moving over the freighter. Captain Ron's face was a grim mask, only allowing them a moment to take in the widespread mayhem.

"Back us off, but keep our prow towards them. Auxiliary power to the forward shields. Load two transphasic torpedoes and get a lock on their weapons. Fire on my mark." Green dots stuttered across the sky, slamming into their shields and shaking the ship, sparks flying from an overhead display. "All hands, this is the captain. Arm yourselves and prepare to repel boarders. Science, prep an inverted tachyon beam."

The captains eyes darted across several displays, his usual chipper mood buried under cool professionalism. The ship shook again, and again. 

"Shields at 47%!" Reported the tactical officer. The Captain gave him a curt nod and continued to wait, until the bird was practically on top of them.

"Fire torpedoes!" He barked, the baited breath they'd all been holding expelled. The transphasic torpedoes fired, points of light that flew briefly, giving the Klingons only moments to react, then passed through their shields and exploded against their hull, disabling their primary weapons systems. "Helm, take us in to the freighter. Fire that tachyon beam. Phasers target their engines, then switch to the second bird. Load a full spread of Quantum torpedoes."

The second bird of Prey began to pull up from the freighter, transporter activity finished for the moment. Their shields came up and fire began to come in.

"Evasive pattern delta," the captain ordered, finally forced to sit in his seat and grip the armrests for dear life. "Damage report." 

"Shields holding at 36%. 14 casualties, 4 fatalities." A pause. "Chef reports tonight's meatloaf is undisturbed." 

They all shared a nervous laugh, easing the tension. Even the captain cracked a smile.

"Thank the heavens for that, he quipped, and for a moment it seemed like that against all odds they'd beat the enemy, finish the mission and save the day.

For a moment.

"The first Bird's shields have gone down," came the terse report. The Captain drew his phaser, arming it.

"Here they come," he muttered. Seconds later, the ship rocked, several consoles exploding, one sending the helmsman flying, dead before he hit the floor.

"Shields are down!"

"Polarize the hull plating!" The Captain barked, antennae swiveling to face the corner just before the red glow of Klingon transporters filled the room. The air lit up with energy weapons, things happening very fast. Eliza threw herself from her seat as a burly Gorn materialized and charged, cursing herself for having forgotten to fetch herself a phaser.

The Captain shot down a Klingon woman that appeared, then was sent spinning by a disruptor blast to the shoulder, rolling hard and bringing the phaser up again, shooting another Klingon charging with a batleth. The warrior pitched forwards, stunned cold… the blade impaling in the prone Andorian as he fell. 

Eliza's eyes went wide as she watched the blade sink into his chest, barely having time to process the impending death of the man she admired before a huge, scaly hand clamped around her throat, squeezing the life out of her and lifting her, kicking and choking. Her hands and feet beat uselessly against it, pounding fruitlessly as the monster laughed. Blackness began to creep on the edges of her vision.

A phaser blast sailed past the Gorn's head and it snarled, neck bulging as it whipped around. Her hand scrabbled at the Gorn's belt, finding the hilt of something and giving it a vicious yank. Her extremities felt cold, numb, so she focused what was left of her life on fumbling the clunky disruptor pistol around and squeezing the trigger as if her life depended on it. The following sight would haunt her sleep for the rest of her life.

The Gorn turned to face her again, some recognition of what was happening flashing across its face just before a bolt of coherent green death burned through his face. It melted his skin, popped his eyeballs and cooked his brain before the hand released her, the smoldering corpse of the Gorn falling backwards with a thump. 

She desperately sucked down lungfuls of glorious, life giving air, sensation returning in the form of an angry throbbing throughout her body, particularly around her neck. Disruptor bolts and phaser beams flew over her head, but she had eyes only for the blood soaked uniform of her captain. She scrambled across the floor, taking one look at him and knowing the truth.

He coughed, blue blood splattering out of his mouth. She took up his hand, squeezing it with hers.

"Flesh wound, sir," she said, trying and failing to keep her voice steady. "You'll be back on your feet in no time." 

He smiled at that, his mustache stained with flecks of blue.

"It's up to you again, Lieutenant," his gravelly voice whispered, uncharacteristically weak. "Don't blame yourself."

And with that, just like a century ago, her captain died. She blinked away the sudden flush of hot tears, looking up at the realization that it was now deathly silent. She slowly, almost reluctantly stood up, leaving her captain on the floor. The assault had been short but brutal- most of the bridge officers were dead, it seemed. The helmsman, an ensign, looked to her with a grim fatality in his eyes.

"The commander?" Her voice croaked, hoping against hope that this wasn't happening again. Another Lieutenant, medical judging by the color of their uniform, checked and slowly shook their head. She turned to the comms officer, miraculously still alive but more junior than she was. "Chief engineer?"

"Internal communications are down. I can't reach anyone." Eliza let slip a small curse, slowly turning to face the viewscreen. She felt like crying, like breaking down, but she knew her duty.

"Ships status?" She asked, willing steel into her voice. 

"Shields are coming back online within a minute. Minimal damage to the hull. It looks like we were the only area hit by troops." Eliza glanced at the fallen, surprised to see the signature red glow of Klingon transporters recovering the bodies of the fallen. Klingons usually didn't bother.

"Makes sense. Birds only carry a dozen crew. Helm, keep us on toward that freighter. Scan the interior." A pregnant pause ensued as the Curie licked its wounds, moving towards the objective and the fresh, undamaged B'rel, with one that would undoubtedly be on its way to scissor them soon.

"The cargo bay is lined in something that's deflecting scans, ma'am. The rest of the ship is mostly empty- bio signs on the bridge, human with one Orion. A Gorn roaming the corridors."

"Posted to keep an eye on the crew, no doubt," Eliza murmured, thinking fast. "Okay. Comms up yet?"

"Just re-established," the officer reported happily, then paled a little. "The chief is out cold but stable. Doctor is busy with patients."

"Have security send me four personnel, all women. Can't risk Orion pheromone bullshit without something from the Doc. Have them meet me in transporter room two." She picked up the captains phaser, upping the stun level.

"You're leaving the bridge?" The next in line officer asked, horrified. Eliza summoned up a smile with far more confidence than she felt.

"For about forty five seconds. That's how long we can spoof the second Bird's targeting. Tell the Chief to get me warp capability ASAP, and tell the Chef I'm looking forward to that meatloaf." She gave a brave smile, casting a lingering look at the Captain's corpse, then left the bridge. It was a miracle she didn't break down in the turbolift.

The freighter's defenses were surprising, but no match for Hira. The moment that her bird had been disabled, Nerac had ordered a frontal assault and beamed over to Hira's position, assaulting the bridge together. There was a squad of human Marines, which was very strange, but they were no match for the bloodthirsty ex-Obsidian Order assassin. 

The doors were hardly open before Nerac was in, launching herself in, low and dangerous. She'd snapshot a knife as she dove, burying it in one man's chest, and came up shooting, sinking precision disruptor blasts into three more. She was so spectacular, so beautiful and deadly, that Hira couldn't help but admire her. 

So effective of a distraction was the Cardassian that Hira only lost two soldiers, both Klingon males that she considered expendable. After all, an honorable death in battle was all any Klingon could hope for. Once the energy blasts stopped flying, Hira had the bridge crew rounded up and held prisoner by a few of her girls, pausing to speak to her Cardassian, who was crouched over a fallen human, searching.

"No uniform, no insignia," she reported. "I'd put money on Federation, but this isn't their style."

"Starfleet Intelligence?" She suggested, fingers tapping at a few controls, deactivating internal sensors. Nerac shook her head. 

"Starfleet can be sneaky, but even Intelligence wouldn't do this. Section 31, however…" Hira frowned.

"Surely you don't expect me to believe that fairy tale." Nerac shrugged, priming several grenades.

"Cardassia had the Obsidian Order, Romulus has the Tal Shiar, the Klingons have… Klingon Intelligence. They've got a Section 31, I guarantee it."

"You've been a spy for too long," Hira said, but her tone was more thoughtful. She would never dismiss something from Nerac so easily, and the Cardassian knew it. They were a good team, built on a mutual trust and a deep intimacy. "Come. Whatever we're here for is in the cargo bay."

Twice on their journey across two decks, hidden traps sprung out to meet them. Nerac stopped, a grenade in her hand in a heartbeat, throwing it with almost precognitive precision. The auto-turret swiveled, locking on to the tall Orion, then disappeared in a blast. Hira winced at the close call, giving Nerac a look that promised repayment later.

The second time, they'd had to break out into a sprint and slide under a blast door to enter the cargo bay, leaving behind the rest of Hira's security detail. She cursed the bad luck, giving orders for her team to retreat to the bridge and be ready for transport.

The cargo bay was a vast space, completely and utterly empty save for a single table, at which sat a human in a sleek, black uniform. Nerac immediately trained a rifle on him, but there were no weapons visible, and Hira strode forward slowly, aware of the need for speed, but suspiciously intrigued.

"Welcome," the man said smoothly, gaze fixed on Hira. Hira, who specialized in manipulating men, couldn't find even an ounce of give in his dark eyes. It made her hand tighten on her pistol's grip. "I supposed it would be you who won out in this little game. You're clever, and ruthless too, judging by that trick with the mines. I fear you've underestimated the Federation, however. Still, the rules are clear- first come, first serve, as they say."

"Quit speaking in riddles," Nerac demanded, moving in, stopped by Hira with a hand.

"What did we win?" Hira stared the man down, certain her scent had spread far enough to reach him by now. She was beginning to suspect that it wasn't a real person they were dealing with; there would be something, anything if the human was as they appeared to be.

The world around them shifted, wavered, revealing an obstacle course. Hira felt her heart sink as her gaze was irrevocably drawn to the only shock of color in the slate gray obstacle course. She fought a rising wave of nausea, and even the dark, hardened Nerac looked shocked to see what seemed to be a human girl, no older than eight. 

She was average for her age, in height, but was built oddly powerfully. Her hair was a bright blonde, long on one half of her head, the other half clean shaven. Thick metal bands showed, pulsing with a soft, blue light, built into the girl's skull and showing on the shaven side of her head. Her eyes were bright blue, and appeared mechanical, the pupils looking more like a lens than a biological eye. The metal and its accompanying blue glow trailed down her arms and her spine, disappearing around the waist. She wore a black jumpsuit very much like the man's.

Her gaze was completely empty, reminding Hira of a mere shell, waiting for a purpose.

"What is this?" She asked, voice cold as ice. Nerac boiled with fury, barely in control. The man smiled, and only Hira's touch saved him from Nerac. 

"She is the first in a new kind of warfare, something your masters should be eager to hear. She is a mixture of genetic engineering and cybernetic technology, built of technology harvested from a crashed timeship. She's been trained for combat and will do whatever she is ordered. She's called a Warmind, but she answers to Sierra." He paused, seeming to enjoy the horrified looks on both faces. "A demonstration, then. Sierra, what is the status of the second bird of Prey?"

The girls voice was soft, childlike, but completely monotone. 

"Its shields are operational at 11%. Warp drive operable. Impulse engines and weapons are disabled. Auxiliary systems and life support operating at 78% efficiency." Hira glanced at Nerac, who checked her communicator just long enough to verify, then gave her a stiff nod. Hira decided to proceed very carefully.

"Sierra," she said carefully, addressing the strange girl. Those blank eyes turned towards her. "Can you access the ship's systems? Influence things, or just see status?" 

"I am capable of accessing any system within one-half light-year." She said it so matter of factly that Hira didn't doubt it for a moment.

"She's dangerous," Nerac hissed, now rapidly switching her aim between the two. "We can't let something like that exist."

Hira already knew what she had to do, and her voice was laden with the weight of responsibility. 

"She's a kid," she said softly, and Nerac knew she was right, whether that kid was the most dangerous thing she'd ever laid eyes on or what. Hira was already contemplating what to do, thinking fast, when the unthinkable happened.

Eliza had a lot to process in very little time. She materialized just outside the cargo bay, bringing up a particular weapon to her shoulder. Replicating one had been easy; modifying it for what she wanted to do he had been a frantic piece of engineering by an ensign that she was now fairly convinced was a genius. She was wearing a headset that mounted a monoeye lens, once used by an inventive murderer and now Federation standard, that more or less let her peer through walls.

She settled into a shooting crouch, surveying the room though a headset that gave her a line of vision into the room. Peering through the lens and through walls was a little disconcerting, but she studied the situation and came up with a plan on the spot. She counted the seconds in her head, conscious of her orders to beam them back in under a minute. 

The interior was confusing, to say the least. Starfleet training took over and she aimed at the strange little girl, squeezing the trigger. A large projectile fired from the modified barrel with a deep thunk, disappearing and reappearing inside the room. The girl reacted with supernatural speed, snatching the projectile from the air and examining it. It chirped and activated, the girl disappearing into a transporter beam. The Klingons, who weren't really Klingons at all, whirled around, but the unique nature of the weapon made it nearly untraceable.

Eliza wondered what they had just done, staring through the wall. Shouts echoed around a corner, causing her security personnel to train phaser rifles. The sound of them firing was the last thing that Eliza perceived before the transporter cycled, leaving them on the transporter pad. She wiped the sweat off her brow, immediately passing off the rifle and making her way back to the turbolift.

"Belle to bridge," she shouted while sprinting. "Shields up! Do we have warp yet?"

"Negative, Captain. Chief gives it three minutes."

Eliza almost made for the science station out of pure habit, only stopping herself once she remembered. The Captain's body had been removed, but the smells of blood and ozone remained. They were already moving away from the freighter.

"The second bird?" She asked, hopeful.

"Their impulse engines are online and they're moving in. Weapons range in fifty seconds." Eliza cursed, attracting a glance from her crew. She didn't mind; she was busy trying to figure out how to keep them alive for a few more minutes.

"Alright," she finally said, the outlook grim. "Scan the debris field and move us into it. No sense in making it easy for them. Tachyon beam won't work twice… load the last two transphasic torpedoes. Doubt that will work either, but no sense in holding it in reserve now. First bird?"

"Pursuing," came the report. "It's thirty seconds behind the second."

"Torpedoes incoming!" Yelled the tactical officer.

"Brace!" Eliza yelled, forgetting to take her own advice. The Curie slid behind a chunk of the other, unfortunate Nova's primary hull, which absorbed the worst of the blast for them. Eliza was thrown to the floor as the ship was buffeted by the shockwave, shrapnel pinging off their shields. She pulled herself up into the Captain's chair, ignoring the the throbbing pain in her temples. "Return fire! Aft torpedoes!"

The Klingons were a little smarter this time around, following at a good enough distance to blast their torpedoes before they could reach the bird. Disruptor blasts hammered the Curie, the helmsman doing their best to weave through scattered debris. A floating nacelle absorbed a few blasts.

"Shields down to 74%," the tactical officer called out. Phaser fire lanced out from the Curie, impacting against the bird's shields. "Beta target at 80%."

"We'll never survive going toe to toe," Eliza murmured, scanning the screens for ideas, for anything. She snapped as the idea hit. "The Cheyenne! She's still in one piece. Get us behind her, then about face. Forward torpedoes, full spread. Do what you can to disrupt their sensors." 

She leaned forward as her orders were carried out. It was going to be close- she wasn't sure herself that they had enough time. Nothing left but to wait and see if her gamble paid off. Her fingers drummed on the arm of the chair, biting the nails on her other hand. Idly, she wondered what exactly they'd taken.

The Curie slid in behind the hull of the Cheyenne, turning in place and settling in to wait. Thanks to the ambient radiation from the Cheyenne's vented plasma, the bird couldn't see them- but they couldn't see the bird, either. The wait was excruciating, the seconds crawling by like years.

Finally, something emerged into sight. "Fire!" Eliza ordered, jumping the gun. A mighty volley of torpedoes fired from the Curie, blasting its sister ship's deflector to smithereens. Too late, Eliza realized she'd been outfoxed.

The real bird flew up from under them, raking their shields with fire. Eliza was nearly thrown from her chair, the overhead lights exploding from an overload, raining sparks down on them. 

"Return fire!" She yelled, knowing it was already too late. Another burst of fire rocked the ship, blowing out main power.

"Shields down!" Came the report, and she braced herself for the inevitable. A blinding flurry of light flared overhead, flashing past on the viewscreen. Eliza watched in amazement. 

"The Nowak!" Someone shouted. She's moving!"

Eliza watched in amazement, gripping the arm of her chair like a vice as the Nowak kept unleashing a spectacular barrage from its aft torpedo tubes, pulling away. The bird went spinning away, shields falling and a torpedo blasting its wing off.

"Match course and speed!" Eliza commanded, feeling the battered old Nova groan underneath her as it obeyed. The battle lights flashed on and off, sparks burning in several places. "We've got to get out of here," she muttered. "Can you raise the Nowak?"

"Aye, ma'am. Audio only."

"This is Lieutenant Belle of the USS Curie to the USS Nowak."

"We hear you, Curie. We're barely functional, but this old girl has some fight in her left. Did you get the precious cargo?" 

"We did," she said, a bit hesitantly. "No idea what it's supposed to be, but it's in the hold."

"Roger that. Tuck yourself inside our shields and we'll make a run for it. We're down a warp engine."

"We'll start transporting over survivors and seeing what we can do to boost your shields."

"Affirmative. Fight well. Nowak out."

Eliza stretched, getting up.

"XO, you have the bridge. I'm going to go see what exactly we've stolen."

The girl stood in the center of the cargo bay, still and calm as could be. Security personnel ringed the room, rifles held ready but not up.

"Ma'am," a Lieutenant Commander saluted her as she entered. She snapped to attention by reflex, which gave the security officer a wry smile.

"Any trouble?" Eliza asked, stopping the 'sir' she instinctively wanted to add.

"None, ma'am, though Ensign Haley approached her and came back with a broken phaser. In fact, ma'am, I'm honestly not sure any of our weapons are working right now."

Eliza frowned.

"She disabled them?"

"I've no idea, ma'am," he answered, the consummate professional. She nodded, squaring her shoulders and walking over to the girl. She knelt down to get on her level.

"I'm-"

"Belle, Eliza. Lieutenant. Acting commander of the Federation starship Curie." Eliza blinked, thrown off by the girl's monotone, emotionless way of speaking.

"Err, that's right. And you are?"

"Designation Warmind, unit Sierra." Eliza frowned.

"Designation? Do you have a name?" The girl repeated herself, absolutely inflectionless. Eliza blinked. "All right, Sierra it is. And what is a Warmind?"

"This unit is a blend of biology and technology. This unit's purpose is to aid whichever party holds it. This unit is capable of interfacing with and controlling technology with half a light year."

"You can take over technology?" Eliza asked, a deep feeling of dread settling over her.

"Correct."

"That's… a tall claim," she said, somewhat lamely. The girl just kept staring at her. "Okay. Did you disable my crewmen's rifles?"

"Affirmative." Eliza gestured behind her. 

"Commander Garcy, please attempt to fire your weapon." He nodded, adjusting the power, and fired at the ceiling. All that came out was a dull click of the trigger. 

"Sierra, please enable his weapon. Garcy, try again." This time, a beam emerged, striking the ceiling. Eliza paled, but the scientist in her required more proof. "Okay. Now, let's-"

The ship rocked as the bird of Prey, weaving nimbly through the Nowak's somewhat sporadic fire, pelted their combined shields with disruptor fire. A voice, decidedly not one of Eliza's men, crackled through her combadge.

"Give her up, Federation. I'll destroy both vessels if you do not comply. Lower your shields and prepare to be boarded."

"And you are?" Eliza responded, as pleasantly as she could muster. Delaying as long as possible was the Federation playbook in this situation.

"Lieutenant Hira. Sierra, lower the Nowak's shields."

"Belay that!" Eliza snapped, but it was too late. The bird had peppered the big cruiser with a spread of torpedoes. 

"The Nowak's warp core is breaching," Sierra reported. "Ejection is not possible."

Despite her generally good nature, despite her Starfleet training, Eliza's instinct was to retaliate in kind. She restrained herself to merely being petty. 

"Sierra, cut their communications. Also, don't take orders from anyone but me anymore." That was a bit like wishing for more wishes, and she didn't like the implication of binding the girl's will to her own, but it was clear the enemy commander had no such qualms.

"Acknowledged. The bird of Prey has locked onto this vessel." As if on cue, the ship rocked again as it's shields were battered. Eliza cursed. 

"Sierra, with me. The rest of you take your stations. Can you disable their weapons?"

"Weapons and targeting are operating independently of the ship's computer."

"They're firing on manual?!" That was almost unheard of in space. Eliza was sprinting for the bridge, and Sierra had no trouble keeping up with her, moving in long, loping strides. She wasn’t even breathing hard, which made Eliza regret not hitting the treadmill more. The turbolift seemed to take forever, the ship shaking under slightly more scattered fire than before.

Eliza skidded onto the bridge just in time to watch the Curie pull away from the Nowak, placing the bulk of the cruiser between them and the enemy. The Nowak was venting plasma, listing to one side. 

“How many did we transport over?” She asked, tersely.

“Everyone but the bridge,” the ops officer reported, combat fatigue in their eyes. “Of the survivors, that is.” 

“Try and get a lock,” She ordered, knowing it would be suicide to drop her shields to transport. But, maybe, just maybe…

“Too much interference,” came the report. Eliza cursed. The weight of responsibility settled on her, and she knew what she had to do, what her duty demanded of her in the moment- survive. 

“Lock a tractor beam onto the Nowak and push them towards the bird,” she ordered, sitting in her chair and strapping herself down. She glanced at Sierra, but somehow had no doubts the strange being would be fine. “Do we have warp drive yet?”

“Yes, ma’am. Just came online.”

“Lock in a course towards Earth, maximum warp. On my mark.”

The seconds ticked by, time moving like molasses. She made a note to put the helmsman in for a commendation- no matter what the Bird of Prey did, it couldn’t seem to get past the Nowak and around to them. It only took fifteen desperate seconds for the Nowak’s warp core to go, but Eliza would remember them as hours. 

“Now!” She yelled, and the Curie rattled as it jumped to warp. The B’Rel, still believing them disabled, was slower on the draw, and was streaking in the opposite direction before the Nowak exploded, the shockwave pulsing out in a brilliant display of light and energy, obliterating everything nearby. Curiously, the freighter was gone, though neither of the surviving ship’s records had seen it go. 

Hira smirked as the Curie escaped, the ship rocking as the explosion washed across its shield. An EPS conduit blew out, showering the bridge in sparks, but overall the damage was about as expected. She rested her chin against her palm. 

“Ah, well,” She murmured thoughtfully. “Take us back to our sister ship and dock us. Begin repairs.”

She glanced to the side, where Nerac was looking at her intensely. She knew what that meant, but there was something else there, too. She stood up. “You have the bridge.”

The door to Hira’s quarters shut with a clang, and Nerac was straddling her immediately, the tall Orion sitting on her bed. She smirked, hands trailing up the Cardassian’s sides, one hand sliding up to cup her cheek, eyes locked. 

“What is it?” She asked, voice quiet but commanding. Nerac colored a little, looking away but leaning into her hand, resting her forehead against Hira’s.

“You meant to lose today,” she murmured, certain of it. “You never lose.” 

Hira’s smirk deepened, and and she gently pressed her lips to Nerac’s. A hand slid down to her thigh, beginning to rub ever closer to her hips. 

“Mmh. We couldn’t kill the girl, and we certainly couldn’t let her fall into the KDF’s hands. So…”

“So we leave her to Starfleet,” Nerac finished, kissing her back before continuing. “They’d never use a child. And Command will appreciate your victory over a superior enemy force… they’ll probably even promote you.”

Hira’s smile was predatory. 

“We’re moving up in the world, my wolf,” She murmured, eyes locked to Nerac’s. She saw the deep submission in the other’s eyes, her fingers gently alighting on a bulge between the Cardassian’s legs. “We should celebrate.”

Eliza stared numbly at the glittering golden pips in her hand. She certainly didn’t feel like she deserved them. 

She sighed, closing her fist over them and looking around. Now that she was a Commander, she’d be moving to new temporary quarters, which meant her cushy life with Marsh was over unless they made it official. Their shared room was on Earth Spacedock, overlooking the planet, and they’d shared many fond memories here in between deployments. Now came more responsibility, which inevitably meant less time for herself. 

She groaned, back hitting the mattress. She heard the door swish open, then felt a familiar, warm weight settle over her. She opened her eyes to see large, glittering eyes looking down at her.

"You look depressed, for someone who just got a promotion," Marsh's soft voice told her. Eliza grinned, never happier to see her girlfriend. She leaned up, nuzzling the Tellarite, then kissing her lovingly. She wrapped her arms around her big, soft form.

"What's the point of a promotion if it means I see less of you?" She'd meant to sound flirty, but a bit too much of her real concerns leaked through. The Tellarite snorted.

"No problem. I'll just make sure I get assigned under you." Eliza squinted. 

"They don't put couples on starships," she protested, even though that wasn't strictly true. Marsh liked to argue, and it was practically foreplay for them now.

"They don't put couples on warships. We're scientists. You ever see the Galaxy class? That thing carries families around."

"I suppose," Eliza admitted, arching herself up and against the other girl, feeling the heat between her legs grind up against the one between Marsh's. "But we're two ranks apart now. That's going to make it more difficult."

Marsh smirked, fingers flicking the two and a half pips on her collar. Eliza's jaw dropped.

"You got a promotion and didn't write me about it?" She accused. Marsh smooched her cheek.

"I wanted to surprise you."

"You wanted rewards, you mean," Eliza accused playfully, rolling Marsh onto her back, her hands beginning to run over the curvy Tellarite. Marsh growled in response, ending their argument. "Mmh, fine~. But I'm a higher rank than you, so I get to go first."

"That an order, Commander?" Marsh purred. Her uniform top was discarded, revealing a big, bouncy bust. Eliza moved on to the bottom. 

"Damn right," she answered, and got to work.

Hira's hands ran up the Cardassian's sides as she moved, riding her hard and fast. Her Orion bikini lay discarded, Nerac's uniform scattered similarly. Nerac's dick was thick, eight inches of gray fuckmeat, and had soft ridges just under the tip. It was perfectly sized for Hira, her insides molded into its shape. Her wolf grunted, mouth busy around Hira's breast, sucking hard. Hira's thighs flexed as she rode her, increasing in intensity until her hips were crashing down on Nerac's.

Pleasure ran down her spine, making her arch her back, and she let out a half growl half moan as she felt Nerac shudder and bite her nipple, her length pulsing and exploding inside the Orion, bringing them both to a halt as the Cardassian pumped hot love inside her.

"Hira," she gasped, biting her lower lip and shuddering. She always did that when they finished; it always made Hira's heart flutter, and now was no exception. She smiled, pressing Nerac back to the bed, kissing her hungrily. They were a rough couple, kissing hard and biting each other a bit savagely. Hira broke the kiss, licking her lips and pulling messily off of her Wolf's cock, letting her warm baby batter ooze from her green folds.

She stood up, looking down at her handiwork. She moved over to a side table, taking a deep draft of water. Nerac came up behind her, pressing herself to her back and kissing her neck, her half hard, recovering cock nestling between her ass. The window of their shared room looked out on a shipyard, where a sleek, beautiful form was taking shape.

Nerac fingered the badge mounted to Hira's armor on the table.

"You must be pleased," she said, softly. "A jump straight to Commander is unheard of."

"I'm pleased because you're so eager for me," she purred in retort, a hand moving back, possessively gripping her dick, pleased to find her throbbing and ready for her. "Though, I do like our new ship."

Nerac squirmed, beginning to pant again as her lust quickly built back up. The genetic cocktail Hira had given her, so long ago, had both given her a dick and a rampant want to use it. Manipulation, of lust and greed, were Hira's primary forms of control, expertly working nearly everyone around her. For a while their relationship had been just that, Nerac drawn back and kept loyal by regular visits to Hira's bed, but over time something far more genuine had developed between them. Hira was a brilliant manipulator, with a cool head and a solid grasp of tactics and an excellent sense for the ruthless politics of the Klingon Empire. Nerac, on the other hand, was a ruthless assassin trained in all forms of combat. If Hira needed blood shed, Nerac would do it happily. They shared a bond of mutual trust and intimacy, becoming a power couple that Command hesitated to interfere with.

"Mmh…" Nerac was quiet, panting softly until Hira took the lead again, leaning over the windowsill, pressing her breasts to the transparent aluminum. The Cardassian gripped her green, plump hips, ground her length against her, then guided her tip into Hira's heavenly pussy, thrusting to the base in a smooth, powerful motion, earning a yelp from Hira. 

From there, it quickly escalated, Nerac plowing her love from behind, her length bullying her folds apart, stretching in the most wonderful way. She reached down, grabbing one of Hira's legs and lifting, forcing Hira's hips to rotate. The ridges of Nerac's dick were now grinding directly against Hira's g-spot, making the normally composed Orion squeal. That in turn drove Nerac crazy, her hips slamming into her like a jackhammer, pressing Hira against the window, watching her breasts bounce like crazy. This time Hira came first, her back arching in pleasure, tongue flopping from her mouth as she came with a loud yelp. Nerac slammed home, feeling Hira's insides ripple down her length, squeezing a powerful orgasm in turn. 

"H-Hira!" She called out, erupting in several knee-trembling ropes of cum shot deep into the Orion's womb. She leaned down to kiss her deeply, tongue dancing with hers, before Nerac stumbled back, length pulling free messily. She collapsed onto the bed, Hira joining her a moment later.

They kissed for a long time, then devoured a delivery of fresh gagh, downed a bottle of bloodwine each, and fucked twice more before passing out for the night.

Not very far at all away, Eliza was in the middle of rutting her thick Tellarite girlfriend. The human had a dick, a leftover gift of the Eugenics War for roughly 5% of the human race's females, and a great desire to use it on her similarly endowed girlfriend. The Tellarite had a huge dick, currently bouncing with every thrust of Eliza's hips up into her. The Tellarite was as tall as her human mate, but she was much, much heavier, wearing most of the extra weight on her chest and ass. 

Marsh was kneeling, straddling her reverse cowgirl, which let Eliza thrust up into her lazily and play with her huge, soft ass, fingers sinking in lovingly. Marsh had the plumpest, fattest pussy, and she felt her hips plap against it every time she buried herself into Marsh’s hot, tight folds. She let out a groan, hands moving around to gently squish her belly. 

“H-hey,” Marsh protested, but her mate knew better. She gripped her chubby belly with both hands, using it as a grip to thrust up into her harder, more passionately, the Tellarite yelping and gripping Eliza’s calves. For some reason, Marsh liked belly play. Fine by Eliza, who loved to play with it. 

Eliza’s eyes fluttered, rolling back towards her head as pleasure overtook her, pounding up into her mate, feeling her insides coil around her dick happily. The way she was gripped, squeezed, wrung out drove her crazy, and she finished with a jackhammering of thrusts up into her, crying out as her hips surged up and exploded, emptying a huge, warm load into her. Marsh grunted, insides rippling down Eliza’s length as she came, and her own dick spat a long rope of cum out onto the floor, making her whimper softly. They fell back to the bed, Eliza pulling messily out of Marsh, letting the creampie ooze out gently. 

They kissed for a while, cooling off, then Eliza rolled on top and dug her hands into Marsh’s huge tits, her hips grinding along the Tellarite’s thick cock purely to tease her. 

“You really are the Commander tonight,” Marsh purred, biting her lower lip as Eliza squeezed her sensitive titflesh. “That’s your second load.”

Eliza grunted in response, letting go of a big, soft breast to slap her length against Marsh’s belly. That made the pig girl blush, which only made Eliza happier to reach down and squish that belly around her length, beginning to thrust against it as if she were getting a… belly job? She happily ground away against it, length throbbing to life again and oozing a little pre to help with the task. Marsh blushed deeply.

“W-what are you… Nhh…” She squirmed, visibly unsure if she should be feeling such pleasure from this. It wasn’t the same as getting fucked, but it did feel good, in a way. “This…. This is weird…”

“Been dreaming about this since you put on the extra ten pounds,” Eliza admitted, leaning down to kiss her messily, her hips just kind of pumping her length against her belly. “I… I don’t know why. I just love the squishy bits of your body so much~.”

“I noticed,” she observed wryly, grunting as Eliza’s pace picked up. She reached down, using her forearms to push her belly up and against her, helping her. They were both panting now, hot breath mingling in the air. This being her third go of the night, Eliza didn’t last long, and let out a deep moan as she thrust against her belly again, length jerking and firing several ropes of hot cum. She painted her belly and chest, making a sticky mess of her lover. 

Marsh smiled, wrapping her arms around Eliza as she fell against her. Her own length throbbed a little needfully, but Eliza had had a hell of a time on her last deployment, so she didn’t begrudge her for passing out after the long night of lovemaking.

She snuggled up to her, a smirk forming on her face. Besides- Eliza would just have to pay for it tomorrow.

The next morning, the door chime sounded. Marsh, wearing a bathrobe, opened the door, received a salute from the ensign on the other side, and accepted two padds. She read them as she walked back over to their shared kitchenette, settling into a table. 

“We’ve got the same assignment,” She noted, causing Eliza to snatch up her padd. 

“Really? Hmm… Research, to do with the, ah, precious cargo we picked up. Unsurprising… We’re on the same ship. The USS Byzantine.”

“That’s a Jupiter-class carrier,” Marsh exclaimed, looking very, very excited. “Do your orders say more? I’m just attached as a scientist.”

Eliza swallowed nervously. Marsh raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Eliza looked a little pale as she looked up and met her eyes. 

“I’m the first officer.”

Hira and Nerac stood in the small room, three high-ranking KDF officers arranged in seats before them. All were Klingon, all male, which was typical for the KDF, despite the race’s culture of freely accepting female warriors. One of them, the designated angry one, was mid-tirade. 

“And then,” he thundered, voice booming through the space, “You not only nearly lost a ship under your command, you lost the objective! You should have used that creature to destroy both ships when you had the chance!”

His fists came crashing down on the table, making everything on it jump comically. Hira kept a carefully neutral expression, waiting for it to end. The Klingon fumed for a while, then slowly calmed. Another spoke. 

“Despite these failures, you defeated a superior Federation force with major damage to only one of your ships. You have had contact with the weapon and the Federation officers involved in the incident. That, combined with your… considerable command abilities, leads us to the conclusion.”

A third spoke, this one the one that Hira had firmly under her spell. He looked a bit dazed even now, and Hira wasn’t working particularly hard with her pheromones. She buried the smirk that tried to put itself on her face. 

“You are the best for the job. Your assignment is to take the ship assigned to you behind Federation lines. Hunt the weapon. Stop at nothing to claim or destroy it.”

They stood as one, hands thumping against their chests. “Qapla!”

Hira and Nerac’s fists hit their chests, Hira allowing herself a smile, as it would look natural. 

“Qapla.”

**Author's Note:**

> Was not expecting this to be mostly plot, but here we are! From now on we'll be trying to post at least one work a month, steadily ramping up production as I force myself to write. That being said, September's deadline is being pushed to the 30th, as my next work will likely be for a contest ending then.
> 
> I'm looking for a proofreader! Submit inquiries to hidestuff2@gmail.com.


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